Saturday, 14 January 2017


[Media prompt] Sick Muslim migrant gang that broke girl's jaw accused of regular ‘Sharia patrol’ attacks. The ringleader of the migrant gang – who is accused of breaking the jaw of a helpless 15-year-old girl – is thought to have been behind a string of similar assaults.


Ahmet K. crouched down, indicating with a hand gesture to Muhammed to do the same. Ahmet stubbed out his cigarette on the grass. “Light another one for me,” he said, shuffling crablike to the left so he had a clear line of sight to the outdoor chairs through the foliage. The sun was sinking quickly now, and they were in the shadow cast by the burned out Volkskundemuseum, although the chairs where the girl sat were still in sunlight.

Ahmet had spotted her earlier as she came out of the church on Alser Straße. “There’s a bitch in heat, if ever I saw one,” he said to Muhammed. They followed her, first to the site of the old Medical University of Vienna, where she sat in the ruins sketching for an hour, then later as she retraced her steps to the church and then to the Folk Museum. “She’s an old hand at this,” said Muhammed, “isn’t she?” “Inshallah,” said Ahmet, watching her swaying hips.

In the Volkskundemuseum, the girl adjusted her hijab, blonde hair spilling out before she could tuck it back in. Muhammad fingered his whip, but Ahmet grasped his wrist. “Wait my friend,” he said. “It is nothing compared to what she will do.”

An elderly man seated at the other end of the line of chairs, and who had been reading the Quran, stood and walked out of the park. The girl was alone, the sketchbook unopened on her lap. “Come on,” said Muhammad, leaning forward on his knees, “we’re wasting our time.” Ahmet raised a finger to his lips, pointing towards a man approaching from the south. He was tall and slender, his pale features well defined in the diminished light. He stopped to look at the small circular pond, but his eyes roamed the perimeter of the garden, glancing at the shrubbery and up at the broken windows of the museum. “They never learn,” said Ahmet. “Allahu akbar,” said Muhammed.

The girl saw the tall man, too, and she glanced left and right before lowering her eyes, knowing he was approaching only by the sound of his shoes cracking the dry aggregate on the path. “Annika,” he said, sitting beside her. He placed his hand over her two hands clasped on her lap, the other stroking her cheek.

Ahmet stood and walked from behind the bushes. “The law is clear,” he said; “Khalwat is forbidden.” At the sound of this, the tall man swivelled his head, but before he could stand Ahmet’s fist smashed into his jaw. Muhammed swung his whip, lacerating the girl’s face, drops of red blood appearing on her fair skin.

“Close proximity is a sin, you dogs” said Muhammed, wiping the flecks of spittle from his mouth. 

“And diversity and proximity is war,” said Ahmet. "Only when the kafir is gone will Vienna truly be ours."

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